


My prompts

by Sansa_Of_Oldstones



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lots of fluff and stuff, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-01 00:56:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15131555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sansa_Of_Oldstones/pseuds/Sansa_Of_Oldstones
Summary: I was asked to post a tumblr prompt on here, so I have decided to put them all in a collection here.





	1. Chapter 1

This first prompt was: 

“Be nice, please? Just this once, for me.” jonsa (for the sentence starters? if you're still doing it)

It’s canon - post war, rebuilding Winterfell. 

- 

“Be nice, please?” Sansa took him by the arm, while he shot daggers down into the courtyard with his eyes. “Just this once, for me.”

Be nice? To Jaime fucking Lannister? The man may have proven himself fighting for Winterfell and the north, but he was still the evil man who pushed Bran from the broken tower and crippled him. He was still a Lannister. Jon’s bias was not unfounded. His family had killed theirs.

“Why is he still here?” Jon growled, still glaring at Jaime training with Brienne and Arya. Seeing him swinging at Arya sent Jon into a rage only Sansa could calm. “The fighting is over. He’s no longer needed.”

“Good luck separating him from Brienne.” Sansa laughed, patting his arm. “He’s changed, Jon.”

“Aye, I don’t doubt it.” Jon softened. They had all changed. “I would still like to punch him in the face.”

“So would I.” Sansa shrugged, letting go of him to rest her arms against the railing. “I think it’s a Joffrey or Cersei thing.”

“He has a very punchable face.”

“Brienne trusts him.” Sansa persuades him. “I trust Brienne.”

“And I trust you.” Jon nodded, smiling at her. Ever since Bran told him the truth about his parentage, he’s been wrestling with a lot of emotions, and a lot has changed, but Sansa remained a constant. Bran and Arya were also extremely supportive, but ever since Sansa showed up at Castle Black, she’d kept him going. She was his rock. There was still a lot to figure out, but he was hopeful about the future. “I’ll be nice. For you.”

\-   
In case you couldn’t tell, I am ABOUT Jaime being at Winterfell, and Jon grumbling about it. They’re an enemies to friends brotp, what can I say? Jaime would 1000% tease Jon about Sansa. I need that in my life.


	2. Chapter 2

The second prompt was: 

Random articles of Jon’s clothes are disappearing. Sometimes new things appear. Jon is confused until he recognizes something familiar on Sansa.

I really loved this prompt, and how it turned out, so I will be turning it into a multi-chapter fic based on another prompt I got because these LDR modern au cuties have stolen my shippy heart. 

- 

This is getting ridiculous. First, it was his favorite pair of sweatpants. Then, it was his favorite hat. Now, he can’t find the shirt he wants to wear.

He has plenty of other flannel shirts, but he knows Sansa likes this one. It’s warm and soft, and he’d really like to know where the hell it is. He thought it had been on a hanger in his closet since spring.

“Ghost.” Jon shakes his head at the German Shepherd on his bed. “I don’t think you’re the only ghost in this house. My shit keeps disappearing.”

He searches his closet and drawers again, and the shirt is still nowhere to be found. He pulls an unfamiliar shirt off of a hanger in the back corner, and stares at it. It still has tags on it. “This isn’t even mine!”

He runs downstairs with the shirt, and shows it to Robb. “Is this yours?”

“No.” Robb is even more confused than Jon. This was wasting time, and he was late leaving to pick Sansa up at the airport. It’s been weeks since he’s seen her beautiful face in person, and he is very excited to be in the same timezone as his girlfriend. Even if it is only briefly. “It looks like something Sansa would pick out for you, though. Maybe she put it in your closet the last time she was here.”

“Why wouldn’t she just tell me?” Jon sighs. He supposes he could try it on, and wear it if he likes it.

“She likes her surprises.”

He tries the shirt on, and examines himself in the mirror. She is always trying to add some color to his wardrobe. He shrugs, and rips the tags off. It isn’t as warm as the shirt he hoping to wear, but it would do for the late fall chill in the air.

An hour later, he is waiting at baggage claim when he sees her descending on the escalator wearing a very familiar flannel shirt. The shirt he had wanted to wear.

He smiles softly at her, and wraps his arms around her. He lifts her up, breathing her in. “Nice shirt.”

“Thanks!” She plays innocent. “I really like yours. Whoever picked it out has style.”

“Did you take my sweatpants and hat too?” He laughs before kissing her. He already knows the answer. He should have known. He understands it. It’s a part of him she can take with her. “Thief.”

“Forgive me?” She pouts, and he cups her face with his hands. He kisses her again.

“I’m sure they look better on you.” He winks.

He would have to find something of hers to keep. He has a few ideas.


	3. Chapter 3

Third prompt was: 

Jon is Sansa’s dentist. 

Enjoy what I’ve affectionately titled “Sansa after Dentist”

-

Admittedly, she’s put this off. It isn’t her fault wisdom teeth have terrible timing. The last thing a college freshman has time for, is getting completely useless teeth removed.

Her mother kept making her consultation appointments with an oral surgeon, and Sansa kept cancelling them.

She should have had them removed years ago, before it started causing her actual pain. Before it started fucking with her teeth. If she waits much longer they could start to look pretty jacked. Sansa will not abide.

She has to be the oldest person to ever get their wisdom teeth removed. Most people have them removed in high school, or shortly thereafter, but here she is. She’s an actual adult, sort of. She’s graduated college, at least. It’s humiliating, and okay, it is entirely her fault.

The assistant calls her back, health history is discussed, and x-rays are taken. It’s all perfectly normal, until the surgeon walks in.

First of all, he doesn’t look old enough to be a dentist, let alone an oral surgeon.

Second of all, he’s so damn hot in his black scrubs that Sansa wants to cry. Thankfully, it’s perfectly acceptable to drool at the dentist.

He examines her x-rays, and Sansa admires his arms. He works out. She can tell.

He rolls his chair closer to her, and he begins assessing her. There is nothing else to do but enjoy the view, and what a view it is. She normally isn’t a big fan of facial hair, but he maintains it well, and it’s working for him. She follows his directions, lost in the cadence of his voice.

“You grind your teeth.” His brow furrowed in concentration. “If you’d like we can set you up to be fitted for a mouthguard. I’d hate for you to develop TMJ.”

That was not happening. She shakes her head, and he nods. He continues to prod around in her mouth. She tries to not think about how ridiculous she must look, sitting there with her mouth wide open. Dr. Snow is probably used to it.

She watches his hands while they work. He catches her staring at him, and smiles. Little crow’s feet appear in the corners of his kind eyes. He’s precious. There’s eye contact. His fingers linger on her face after he palpates her jaw and cheeks. It’s intense. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he kissed her. He doesn’t, of course. He’s completely professional, but there is something there. Sansa can feel it.

Then, the strangest dentist appointment of her life is over. He jots some things down in his notes, and excuses himself.

“A phlebotomist will be in to draw some blood.” He taps the doorway with his clipboard, and walks out.

She makes her appointment to have her wisdom teeth removed at the front desk, and a week later she’s being prepped for the procedure. The IV catheter is put in, and the sheer amount of instruments next to her makes her nervous. She cannot even see all of them, because they’re packaged. They’re hiding.

Sensing her unease, Dr. Snow is there, squeezing her arm. “I promise to take excellent care of you.”

Everything after that is haze, thanks to the medications she is given. Sansa wakes up on the couch, in a daze. Rickon is next to her, yelling at his video game with his headphones on.

“How did I get on the couch?” She pushes one side of his headphones away. Her mouth felt weird, and she was still woozy. This sucked.

“Dad and I helped you.” Rickon laughs, tossing her his phone from his pocket. “You were hilarious. I took a video.”

“Oh god.” Sansa finds the video, and groans in shame. There she was, delirious as ever, smiling like an idiot with the cotton in her mouth. It gets so much worse. She wants to die.

_”I would full on do you.”_ Sansa horrifyingly grabbed Dr. Snow’s scrubs, and announced. _“Right here. Right now. Up against the counter. Yep. What are you gonna do about that?”_

_“Oh good, you’ve met,”_ She actually said the following to her father when he arrived to take her home, _”He’s your future son-in-law.”_

Dr. Snow was as kind as can be. He smiled, and referred to her father as Senator.

_“I would kiss you if my mouth wasn’t a god damned crime scene.”_ Her father tried to get her the hell out of there. He tried. _”What did you do to my lips? I will sue you. I don’t care if we’re getting married.”_

_“It’s the novocaine, sweetheart.”_ Her father moved her along.

_”Why are you pulling me?”_ She whined, and Rickon stopped filming.

“I’m pretty sure you proposed to him before we got back there.” Rickon snickered. “It’s a shame I didn’t get that on film.”

”Why were you even there?” Sansa buries herself in her blanket.

“There’s some trust issues regarding me being in the house by myself.”

She hibernates her shame away until her phone rings. She doesn’t recognize the number. She decides to live dangerously.

“Put it on speaker phone. I don’t want to leave my blanket of shame.” Her voice is still muffled by the cotton in her mouth. “Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Jon, uh, Dr. Snow?”

“Hi?”

“I just wanted to check in, and see how you’re doing.”

This, was weird. “I feel like that scene in Wanted, where the guy gets smacked in the face with the keyboard.”

“Yikes.” Jon cringes. “I thought I did a better job than that.”

“I am in an expected amount of misery.” Mostly from embarrassment.

“Look, after your follow-up appointment, you won’t be my patient anymore.”

“Oh my god.” Rickon doubles over, trying to silence his laughter.

“Oh, I’m on speaker.” Jon realizes. “Wonderful.”

“I took you off of speaker.” Sansa smacks Rickon with a pillow after fumbling to grab her phone. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

“It’s alright.” Jon sighs. “I don’t want you to think I make a habit of this or anything. I’m really conflicted about it, and I’m not quite sure if it’s ethical. But, after your follow-up appointment, would you like to get dinner with me or whatever? Jesus Christ, this is embarrassing. I am so sorry. I’m going to hang up now.”

“I’m the one who proposed, and said I would do you on the counter.” Sansa reminds him. “I’m the one who’s embarrassed.”

“You remember that?”

“No, my asshole brother was filming it.” Sansa glares. “Dinner sounds great.”

“Oh, good.” He sounds relieved. He is so freaking adorable, Sansa cannot stand it. “I’ll look forward to it. Don’t drink from any straws.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m going to play the video at your wedding.” Rickon continues to laugh. “I will tell your children how awkward this was.”

“Please do.”

-

I had a lot of fun writing this, and laughing at Jon being an _Oral_ Surgeon. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Canon au - Sansa has asked Jon to help her find a husband but he seems to hate all the candidates. He finds really petty reasons for her not to marry them and Sansa starts to get annoyed with him

It started out innocent enough. Sansa asked him to help her find a husband. She trusted his judgement, and he believes it his duty to protect her. Jon would do the same for Arya, if Gendry wasn’t so infuriatingly perfect for her.

He knows how important it is that Sansa marry. He is not oblivious to the implications of her station. She is the eldest true Stark, and that means even more now. The Starks are a powerful house, and she is their matriarch. That does not mean he has to like the idea.

The suitors circled like vultures soon after the war ended. Jon swatted them away like flies.

While it is expected that Sansa marry, he maintains that Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn would have been quite particular about whom would marry their beloved daughters. He acted accordingly.

First, was the Manderly. Jon rode with him one cold morning, and explained a fact or two to the young lad.

“You told him his children would be named Stark?” Sansa screamed at him in his chambers that evening.

“Am I mistaken?” Jon wondered. “You are Lady Stark. I was under the impression marriage would not be changing this.”

“No man will want his children to have another man’s name.” Sansa scoffed. “We had not even discussed marriage, and you made it sound like his life would be that of a horse kept in the stable for breeding. You’re supposed to be helping me! This is for the north!”

He wouldn’t mind his children having the Stark name, Jon thought briefly. “He called you Sansa.”

“What else would you have him call me?”

“Lady, for starters.” He also chewed his fingernails. It was disgusting.

Next, were the horrible excuses for human beings from The Vale. Thankfully, they did not attempt to court her long. They left shortly after they realized they would not be Lord of Winterfell. That simply is not how things would work in the north. Not anymore. Not after everything Sansa went through with the Lannisters and Boltons. Goodbye.

“Is there a reason you’re scaring off any man who speaks to me?” She spat at him, walking next to him on the battlements. “Do you wish to help me, or not?”

He is no longer sure. The thought of Sansa marrying any of these men made him uneasy. The way they spoke of her. She deserves to be treasured as the gorgeous woman she is, not disrespected.

“I am helping you.” Jon smirked. “They wouldn’t scare so easily if they were worthy of you.”

He also knew they had visited the brothels in Wintertown. Not that he would discuss such things with Sansa. It was not proper.

“It is not your place.” She sounded so much like her lady mother, Jon had to take a moment to collect himself. “I changed my mind. I no longer require your assistance. Whether I get married, and to whom, is my business.”

“We both know you have a responsibility, Sansa.” Jon reminded her. “It would be unwise to ignore it. Great care needs to be taken with such a decision.”

“All anyone has ever cared about is my name, and my ability to make children.” Sansa glared at him. “It isn’t going to be like that anymore. I make my own decisions. Is that understood?”

“Yes, my Lady.” The words were bitter, and passive-agressive. Why, Jon did not yet know.

Most recently, Dickon Tarly came very close to securing a betrothal. Jon hadn’t even interfered, much. It wasn’t a terrible match, Jon had to admit. Dickon was respectful, and kind like his brother. Dickon and Sam’s father being killed in an unfortunate hunting accident put an untimely end to their courtship. Dickon was needed in Horn Hill.

It hurt Sansa deeply that it did not work out. He hated it. She deserved nothing but happiness.

“He was everything I prayed for.” Jon heard Sansa tell Arya. “Father promised me someone brave, gentle, and strong. I can’t tell you how I’ve prayed for that.”

He isn’t sure when it happened, but he knows he would very much like to be that someone. Even if it meant telling the seven kingdoms who he truly is.


End file.
